Daybreaker
by Lizette Sosa
Summary: Basically a Hetalia version of Titanic with a MAJOR twist. Lets just say "Jack" survives instead of "Rose" O: HUNGARY X PRUSSIA 3 but there will be plenty of other couples. It is a crossover because it contains references to Baccano! at the beginning and ending that ties the two together : Hope you Enjoy !


**Yaaay~ for Hetalia Titanic! XDIt's a little OC so i apologize, but i like it.. -W- Uhmm.. there are a few Baccano! thingys in there.. just cause I love Baccano!.. 3 ANYWAYS! you dont have to know the details of it except for the beginning and maybe the end.. other than that, ENJOY! (:  
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**For those of you who don't know the country names, I shall educate you **

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**Peter = Sealand  
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**Gilbert = Prussia  
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**Feliciano = Italy  
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* * *

"Yo Gramps!," a young man's voice exclaimed. "time to get up and take your meds!" I grumbled as I turned to glare at the boy in the sailor suit. I sighed and tried my best to roll out of my bed, Peter strolling out of the room. "Hurry up, ol' man, or your birds ganna get it!" I cursed as I hurriedly put my house slippers on. He always tended to threaten my precious Gilbird, but then again it always worked.

Now, don't get the wrong idea; the boy isn't my child nor my grandchild. A couple years ago a friend of mine (I guess you could say) passed away from a horrible illness that left the boy traumatized. He wouldn't eat, drink, or sleep so I couldn't just let him live by himself! That and in my friends will he stated that if anything would happen to him I would have to take care of him…) The thing is, it traumatized Peter so much to the point where his brain completely blocked the memory. Now he somehow came up with the idea that I'm his grandfather, which I really don't mind. He basically does everything I ask him too – er, almost everything.

"Can you at least wake me up at like eight instead of, I don't know, six o' clock in the morning!" I complained as I placed some sunflower seeds on the table just before Gilbird plopped down.

"Nope. The bottle says every eight hours, so that means _every eight hours_." He stated as he handed me six different pills and a glass of water. _Damn brat. _I thought to myself as I gulped them down.

"Hey, go get today's clothes ready, we've got some place to be." I demanded.

"Where are we going?" he asked before walking into the laundry room. I coughed awkwardly as I reached out to stroke Gilbird.

"Today is a special day! But I bet you a beer you'll never guess what it is." I bribed, forcefully cheerful. Just then, he entered the room and placed the clothes on the chair beside me.

"The last day Titanic saw daybreak. . ." he murmured, starring off into the distance.

"How'd you know?!" I questioned angerly, mad at the loss of a beer.

"_How ironic it is to have such prized possessions found on such a mournful day. . ." _exclaimed the preppy, blonde announcer on the small television. I sighed as I listened to the recap of the horrible accident; the facts already burned into my head.

"_Here's Isaac on more details." _The screen changed to a man with light brown hair and a hardy laugh.

"_Well Miria, it seems there were a few pictures and jewelry inside the Titanic's ship wreck." _I gulped as I stared at the box; the news suddenly got way more interesting.

"_Viewers discretion is advised, considering the picture is a beautiful _nude _woman." _The man laughed. I cleared my throat awkwardly as I inched myself closer and closer to the television.

"Gramps, you okay?" I waved my hand to shush the boy. Simultaneously, the screen changed to a shot of the picture. The sight of it made my heart skip a beat; tears sprung to my eyes and a red blush rushed to my cheeks. A line of information scrolled at the bottom of the screen and my breath caught.

"Quickly boy, get me the phone!" I bellowed as I tried to memorize the number before it disappeared. He reluctantly handed me the phone, concern written all over his face. My hands shook as I dialed the number. "6-1-9…" I mumbled. It was torture as I tried to dial as fast as I could, and even more torture as the phone rang on and on. I was just about to give up when a man answered. "Hello, my name is Gilbert Beilschmidt, and I believe I can give you some details on that beautiful picture." I blurted before he could even say 'Hello'. I heard Peter gasp beside me. He instantly tried to snatch the phone out of my hands, mumbling something about me going insane. I pushed him out of the way as I answered all of the man's questions. "I'll be ready by noon!" I smiled happily as I got the information on the plane ride. "See you soon~!" I sing-songed, hanging up the phone.

"Hurry boy and pack our luggage!" I exclaimed.

"Where are we going?" he questioned, staring at me.

"Aboard the Flying Pussy Foot!" I smiled, his face in a gap.

"_The _Flying Pussy Foot?!" he wheezed. "You mean the fancy research boat?!" I laughed at his startled face.

"That's the one! Now hurry, the helicopter leaves at twelve!" He nodded happily before abruptly turning and facing me.

"Wait, why am I going? Why are _you _going?" he questioned.

"I'm going because I am awesome and have some very important information on the Titanic. You're going because, well, only you know when to give me my medicine. Plus, this might be good for you." I smiled. He reluctantly nodded his head and went off to pack. As soon as he left the room I grabbed the yellow birdy.

"Come Gilbird! Seems like we're off to another adventure!" I whispered, placing him on my shoulder like I've done plenty times before.

* * *

It was 11:50 AM, ten minutes before the meeting time. Peter and I stood on top of the airports roof, staring at the giant helipad.

"You sure about this Gramps?" he asked nervously for the twentieth time.

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be here." I reassured him. Just then we were ushered to the side of the building, the helicopter humming in the distance. I starred up into the sky as strong winds blew everything around and a great machine landed with ease.

"We've been expecting you!" called the pilot. Two men jumped out of the helicopter and grabbed our luggage and secured them under the seat. I nodded my head in acknowledgment to the pilot and was soon buckled in tight next to Peter, a pair of headphones stuck to my head. I watched as the ground receded from beneath us. I reached up and pet Gilbird who was perched on my shoulder. I could tell he was enjoying the wind in his feathers; after all he is a bird. Not ten minutes into the flight I heard Peter's voice ringing in my ear.

"Look! Doesn't that look like a piece of land in the middle of the sea?!" he exclaimed as he pointed into the ocean. Even so high up I could tell it was just an abandoned port. "Wouldn't that be an awesome country?!" I couldn't help but snort at his use of the word _awesome. _

"That can only hold about five people!" I exclaimed. He nodded his head but remained smiling.

"Just imagine it! It would be the best country in all of Europe!" I turned to glare at him.

"Next you're going to say beer isn't good for you." I snorted.

". . . Ummm . . . it's not good for you." He mumbled. I furiously turned and stared down at the ocean.

"Shut up!" I barked, a few minutes delay. With that, the helicopter was filled with silence. It seemed like hours of blue sky and blue ocean before we finally landed on the Flying Pussy Foot.

"Nice to meet ya! Names Firo, I believe we talked on the phone?" asked a young man wearing entirely all green as soon as I set foot off the machine. I nodded, his voice sounding oddly familiar. I shook his hand and saw him glance at my shoulder.

"Hope you don't mind me bring Gilbird along." I chuckled.

"Not at all! He's a bird, its not like he's ganna eat important paperwork or nu'un." He replied, returning the smile. I thought it funny that he didn't ask about the sailor-suit boy standing next to me. "I'll show you to your room and let you relax before I interview you." He explained. The room was small yet somewhat cozy. A few pictures of old crew mates covered the walls, and a fresh vase of flowers sat on the desk next to the bed. Peter barged in and dropped the luggage, jumping onto the bed.

"You ganna be okay in this small room Gramps?" he asked.

"Of course I am! And since it was only supposed to be me coming, it looks like you're crashing on the floor." I laughed. He snorted, rolling to the side of the bed. "Might as well just get it over with now…" I mumbled, stretching out a bit. "Come boy, you listen to what I have to say too." I called as I walked out the room. I wasn't sure if he was going to follow, but I soon heard foot falls trailing behind me. I knocked on the door that said Captain and was surprised to be greeted by two big men with Tommy guns in their hands.

"Guys, chill. He's here for an interview." Firo explained to the guards who stepped aside.

"What was that all about?" Peter asked as he rushed in behind me.

"They're a little on edge. Have you heard about the train named after this boat?" he asked. Both I and the boy shook our head; who would have known that there would be something else with such a ridiculous name. "Well maybe after you tell me your story Granpops I'll tell yous mine." He bargained, making me chuckle.

"Sounds like a deal." I took a seat directly in front of the captain's desk, a small screen in the corner paneling the ruins of the great ship. It's funny how even then, with sea life engulfing everything, the ship still looked glorious.

"Hope you don't mind me recording this." Firo said, placing a recorder in between us. "Would you like some _pasta _before we begin?" he asked. I had to do a double take before answering his question.

"Sorry, what was that?" I asked.

"Would you like some _water _before we begin?" he repeated.

"I'd like some beer." I said flatly. He glanced at the mini-fridge in the corner of the room.

"We only have a little bit of beer left, how about some wine instead?" he asked cautiously.

"I'll take the beer." I said flatly once again, staring at him.

"Beer it is…" he muttered, taking out a twelve pack.

"I thought you only had a little." I laughed as I caught a sight of the rows of beers in his fridge.

"There not mine." He said nervously, making me chuckle. I couldn't help but smile at the satisfying popping noise of the beer can. We toasted and I chugged the can at the first go.

"Alrighty then, let's get started." Just then I caught whose voice he reminded me of.

"Do you happen to be related to Feliciano Vargas?" I questioned as his finger hovered above the record button.

"Nope, never heard of him" he said instantly, as if expecting the question. He even looked startled at how fast he replied. With out another word he pressed the record button and pulled out a piece of glass. "So you called for this drawing, correct?" I nodded then realized that the recording couldn't see me. I replied a simple 'yes'. "What do you know" he questioned.

"The drawing you're holding. I know who drew it and whose in the picture." I said matter-of-fact-ly.

"Please, do tell." He smiled.

"That drawing…" I gulped. "That woman…" her name was caught in my throat. I grimanced as I opened my second can and chugged. "The artist is none other than the awesome Gilbert himself!" I smiled.

"And the woman…?" Firo pestered. I held up my finger.

"Do you want to know the story or don't you?" I sing-songed, opening yet another can. "You see, it all started with my younger brother's first captain job…"

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**I hope you enjoyed my chapter! O: I worked really hard on it.. :3 The next chapter is when the real shiz starts! You know.. the actual story and all that good stuff X3 Please, rate! Subscribe! Review! Favorite! So and and so forth! (:**


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